


Bitter Winds

by chainmail



Series: World on Fire [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Deviates From Canon, Interesting NPCs Mod (Elder Scrolls), Jumping between past and present, POV Multiple, Skyrim Main Quest, will update tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:09:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28774365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chainmail/pseuds/chainmail
Summary: Betrayed by a childhood friend, Cassius treks through Skyrim in search of answers and is only left with more questions. A difficult quest only made more troubling when he must answer the call from the mountains.
Series: World on Fire [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2109639
Kudos: 6





	Bitter Winds

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> I want to preface this by saying I am in no way a fantastic writer. This had started as a time-killing train activity while commuting to work that I was going to just keep to myself. But the more time I spend on this site the more I figured there was no harm in sharing my own stories. For some reason, I've always felt a bit embarrassed and I don't really have any reason to! I've been inspired by so many stories and I want to give it a shot! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading and of course, if you have any feedback, please feel free to share! (I need all the writing help I can get!)

The bitter wind started to become unbearable, whipping about with an icy sting. When you’re out for so long and the cold starts to burn. Eyes watering, fingers numb, and every breath sharp and painful. A blinding whiteness surrounds you, and the only way out is to move forward, or back if you’ve forgotten which way to go.

Miserable, it was all so damn miserable.

Cassius swallowed thickly, grimacing at the burning he felt at the back of his throat. A warm drip, a metallic taste.

I’ll never get used to this.

His hands trembled as he knelt on the snow-covered ground, closing his eyes and breathing in through his nose. Hearing the crunch of his companions’ footsteps near him, he looked up. His elven friend towered over him, a frown on his face.

“I take back whatever I said about Oakflesh, the mage who came up with it was clearly a genius.” The elf offered him his hand, and with a grunt pulled him up. He gave his employer a look over, brushing off some snow from his shoulder and handing him his pack that was tossed off to the side some time ago.

Cassius rolled his eyes, “Perhaps you’ll take it as a sign to learn a new spell,” he paused to spit, “I can't save you every time now, can I, Rumarin?”

The elf shrugged and let out a sigh, walking off to the side to grab his own displaced pack. Cassius watched him rummage through it, pulling out a map, then pausing to glance at the pile of ash just steps away. He watched the elf shudder and couldn’t help but do so himself. He walked towards it, watching the ash and old torn robes flutter as the wind picked up. He found the mask that covered what once was its face disturbing. Slits carved on the mask where its eyes should be, bore into his own, yet he couldn’t look away. 

Why can't I look away?

Kneeling down and brushing the remaining ash off with the back of his hand, the Imperial picked it up. His hands ran over the grooves of the mask, feeling the power that emanated from it. He recognized its design with the many stone carvings inside the Nordic ruins that littered Skyrim. 

“Dragon Priest.” He stated, hearing Rumarin hum in acknowledgment.

The more he looked the more his head began to throb. He could hear the whisper deep within him, slowly getting louder. He couldn't make sense of what it was, in a language he did not speak nor understand.

Krosis.

The whispering had stopped, and then in an instant, many voices began to shout in a flurry. Cassius gasped out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, dropping the mask. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, but this felt different, more chaotic, and as suddenly as it began, it was over. 

He rubbed at his aching temples, looking over to his companion, who stared back with concern, “I’m alright. Let’s just get out of here.”

Rumarin nodded, walking towards him, glancing at the discarded mask. He rubbed at his chin as if studying it, “Do you think it will fetch for a good price? I’m sure we can find someone interested in strange and mysterious artifacts.” He kicked it around with his foot before grimacing, “On second thought, not sure I’d like to be holding on to this by the time we do find someone. You think it's haunted?”

“I’m not sure what it is,” He picked it up again, looking it over once more, before fitting it into his pack and reaching for the map Rumarin had on hand, “but maybe someone does.”

“Where to now, then? Not back to Dawnstar, I hope? I don’t know about you but we’ve been out in the snow for weeks now and I think I’ve forgotten what the color green looks like.”

“We need the coin from this bounty.”

“Now I wish you’d have left me to burn.”

“You would have been warm at least,” Cassius smirked at his companion, handing him the map, “Let’s get going — if we’re lucky, we’ll pass by a carriage on the main roads.”

The elf scoffed, yanking the map from his hands, trudging slowly behind the Imperial as they made their way down the mountainside they had come up. Leaving behind that crumbling stone wall and the charred remains of beasts they no longer wish to confront.

—

The two traveled in silence toward the main roads, which was unusual for the pair. More often than not, Rumarin spoke endlessly, be it with him or just at him, and not much could stop him when he started on some strange joke he couldn't understand. The change in temperament was not unusual though, Cassius thought, given their encounter. 

Shearpoint Summit was the last of many locations the two needed to stop at on their trek through the Pale. More often than not, they found themselves low on gold and decided that collecting bounties was the most efficient way to earn some. Killing bandits and clearing out spider dens in the local mines was easy enough. At an inn they passed by earlier on, talk of a dragon causing havoc in nearby villages caught their attention, making a mental note of which areas they should avoid. But the hefty bounty that came along with its head had piqued their interest. They both spent days arguing whether or not they should even think about tracking the beast down, however, the gold would be enough to keep them sated for a couple of months, allowing them to focus on more important matters.

“What's the worst that could happen?”

“I don't want to think about it, lest I change my mind.”

During their climb up the mountain path, they both silently feared for the worst, hoping that they were wrong. That the dragon was long gone or already taken care of, and for a moment, when the ground flattened at the top, it was empty. Just a wall, an old and forgotten coffin, and a chest possibly filled with trinkets that excited them both. At that moment, a weight they had been carrying seemed to lift, letting out sighs of relief.

But they were fools and they had forgotten how cruel the world could be.

A forceful wind flowed within Cassius as he stepped closer to the wall. Stretching his arms in front of him, palms pressed against the chilled stone, eyes closed and preparing for what was to come next. He had already done it many times before. It was like a ritual for him at this point. 

Feeling the thundering of a thousand voices getting louder and louder, until they exploded in his head, chanting and repeating words that made no sense but somehow able to understand in those fleeting moments. It was painful, a hammering in his head, yet at the same time, something inside of him craved for more. When it was over, it died into a whisper, like a tickle at the back of his throat.

Gone, but making sure he did not forget.

No matter how much he prepared, it always left him feeling drained. He panted heavily, giving himself a moment to catch his breath. When he turned to let Rumarin know he was alright, a loud crack from the coffin brought him back to reality and his heart sank.

The wretched priest rose from the coffin, letting out a terrible war cry. It acted immediately, raising the staff he carried and sending out a flurry of fireballs at the duo, deafening explosions left whenever it struck the mountain ground. They unsheathed their weapons and charged, committed to ending this fight as quickly as it started. 

Rumarin struck the priest with an arrow straight to the chest, laughing as it staggered back. Cassius, seeing the opening, ran to strike it down. As he leapt in the air, sword grasped tightly between white-knuckled fists, a thunderous roar burst from above them.

“Damn it!” He plunged his steel sword into the priests chest, and then again and again. Its violent shrieking quieted down and the priest disintegrated into a pile of ash as the magicka keeping it alive retreated from its body.

As he turned around to face the beast that circled around the two, it let out a blast of fire that engulfed Rumarin.

The elf let out a yell in surprise, his bound bow disappearing from his hands as he tried to pat out the flames beginning to burn his robes. Cassius ran behind him and pushed him onto the ground, getting him to roll and subdue them. 

All he remembered next was letting out a shout, fire erupting from himself, before his head began to fog. Then it became unbearably cold and he was on the ground panting, a pile of charred bones remained where the dragon should have been.

It troubled the Imperial that he could not remember the events afterward, as if he was possessed by some otherworldly creature that took control the second he let out those terrible shouts. 

He often wonders if Rumarin witnesses anything strange when it does happen but the elf never seemed to mention anything of the sort. He would ask but delayed in doing so, not wanting to involve him further into this situation than he already was. His companion was in enough trouble just by following him around as is.

A conversation for another time.

The two found their way to the main road and walked towards Dawnstar, a look of relief came from Rumarin when a carriage slowly rolled its way behind them. The carriage driver called out for them, offering a ride.

“Aren't you a sight for sore eyes,” Rumarin said breathlessly, stepping on first, offering his hand to Cassius, “I don’t think I would have been able to take one more step without falling apart.”

The man let out a laugh, “Well, settle down then, me and the old girl here will get you to Dawnstar before you know it.” He turned back to face the road, horse trotting slowly with the click of his tongue.

The two gave each other a look, one that said ‘I hope it was worth it.’

For the rest of the way to Dawnstar, all was quiet between the three, with the wind howling loudly around them.


End file.
